Rock You Baby
by SilverShiver
Summary: ONESHOT. SONGFIC. Draco's POV of his meeting with the broken Hermione who needs someone to understand her and love her.


**Disclaimer: Shocking though this may seem, I still do not own any of this stuff. Not only do the characters belong to the one and only goddess of book, JKR, but the plot itself is from a song by the god of song, Toby Keith. Rock You Baby...

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A/N: This is a oneshot that took me a while to write so I would appreciate any feedback that I can get. Even if it is to tell me that I suck. WhichI don't think I do so you can say it but I will pay it no heed.**

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**Rock You Baby**

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There is a small café that I used to go to every night. It was a little place—five or six tables, a small dance floor, and a juke box in the corner—but the smallness made it comfortable. I would say it was homely, but I felt welcomed at the café, unlike at the cold dark Manor I still lived in. But this isn't a story about me and my life, although I could tell one on _that_ topic. No, this is a story about her. This time it is all about her.

When I first saw her after all those years apart, she was sitting at a table with two chairs. She was alone, however, but I assumed she was waiting for someone. Her husband or boyfriend perhaps. I sat down at the bar, my usual seat, and watched her for a while. After ten minutes when no one had joined her, I stood up and crossed the room to where she was sitting.

"Is this seat taken?" I asked. She shook her head without looking up at me. I sat down and watched as she tried to _discretely_ slip a ring off of her left hand and put it out of sight into her purse. Then she looked up at me and we both recognized each other instantly.

"Draco," she gasped. At the use of my first name, I realized that I should return the favor.

"Hermione." I frowned. It had been at least fifteen years since I had last seen her in person, and time had been harsh on her. At only thirty four or thirty five she had faint wrinkles along her eyes and her forehead was creased with worry. Under her eyes were dark bags that showed her lack of sleep. Her face was pale; it was so unlike the healthy flush I remembered.

Upon closer examination, I also noticed that her eyes had dimmed. Her hair had lost most of its volume (I suppose it was preferable to the bushy mess I had known back in school) and was already showing grey hairs.

It wasn't the first time in the thirty four years of my life that I was grateful for my easy life, and yet I had never seen Hermione Granger as clearly as I did that night. She tried to cover up her initial shock with a smile, but I knew she was less than happy to have me sitting with her right then. The last time I had sat near her, we had still been in school. It was the day I had broken her heart by leaving. Our school night romance had progressed quickly, but I was unready for the commitment she craved.

An open relationship—one the whole school would know about—wasn't something I could do. I had explained shortly and harshly that I couldn't be with her any longer and I had walked away without a second glance back. She had moved on, I assumed, but I never found a matching relationship again.

"How have you been?" I asked civilly, much to her surprise.

"Fine," she lied. And then, "Better than fine. Great. Even wonderful."

We sat in silence for a moment before she asked me how I had been.

"I've been all right," I lied in turn. "I heard about the wedding."

She pressed her thinned lips together in a forced smile. "I'd imagine that you did. Most of England made it their business to know about it."

"With the groom being the famous Harry Potter, can you blame them? Savior of the Wizarding World and a muggle hero as well; who wouldn't want to attend?" She refused to meet my gaze as I said this so I decided to change the subject.

"Ah, well, that's all in the past. Let's talk about now, shall we? You're still married then, I assume? No news of a divorce."

"Not yet," she met my gaze bravely. At the first real sign of communication I was ecstatic. I still don't know why, but that night in the café, I wanted nothing more than for Hermione to talk to me as an equal again. I wanted to know what had caused her to age pre-maturely. I wanted to help…if I could.

Call me crazy, but what I really wanted was her. I had never matched the passion of my teenage relationship with her, and now I had a chance to at least spend time with the only one I had ever felt anything near love for.

Just then a waiter asked if her could help us to any drinks and I ordered a bottle of my favorite red wine to share with the broken woman in front of me. He returned with the wine and two glasses, and when they were filled we resumed our conversation.

"You look good," she said, but her eyes averted mine.

"I wish I could return said statement."

Her gaze met mine harshly, but neither of us backed down. I had expected her to tear up like she had years ago when I had hurt her, but instead she simply blinked the words away. I broke down first.

"Sorry," I found myself saying. "It's just that…well, time had obviously been hard on you."

She smiled at some far away object and didn't speak for a while. Then, "Yes, Draco. It's been a long, and hard, fifteen years."

She looked at me again and her smile faded as she realized who sat across from her. She brushed some of her hair behind her ear, and picked up her glass for a sip of wine. After licking her lower lip of the last droplet of wine from her drink, Hermione took my apology as an invite and told me her story.

"I married Harry less than a month after we all graduated. We were happy for the two years until our first son was born. As I'm sure you heard, little Samuel was only three days old before he died. It was hard on us both, but I think Harry took it worse than I did because he had already lost everyone close to him save for me. After Sirius, Remus, Albus, Ron, and Ginny, he couldn't handle any more death.

"However, we both recovered in time, and a few months later I discovered I was pregnant again. A week before the one year anniversary of Samuel's death, Grace was born. We named her Grace because to us, she was our saving grace. There had been complications in my pregnancy, and we were all terrified that she would be hurt. Thankfully she was born healthy.

"I had expected Harry to be overjoyed with our beautiful baby girl, but he seemed cold and distant. I suppose he was afraid to get too close to her. Well, anyway, Grace grew up before our eyes, and when she was four I knew I was pregnant again. I didn't tell Harry at first. I was afraid that he wouldn't want another baby. You see, Harry still didn't love Gracie like a father should love his only child."

She stopped speaking for a moment and apologized. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't think—"

"It's all right," I interrupted. We both knew my father's behaviors well enough that denying his "affections" was quite pointless. "You're right. A father should over love his first child. I agree. Now please continue."

She looked at me dolefully, but continued. "First, I went to Sat. Mungo's to make sure that I was, in fact, pregnant. They reassured me that I was and I went home with a torn mind. That night, when Harry came to bed, I told him the news. We got into a bit of a row; he didn't understand why I was upset about the baby. Finally, I blurted out that I didn't think he loved Gracie right.

"He took it hard and didn't speak to me the rest of the night. I thought he would be stubborn the next morning, but to my surprise he started loving Grace more than he ever had. In one day he took her to the zoo, to an amusement park, out for ice cream, and on the way to a late movie, she fell asleep, exhausted. He brought her home and we put her to bed. Together. I swear, something in him had changed and that night I knew that we _could_ have another child.

"Things went on around the house quite the same as before, only now Harry would cancel meetings to be sure that he would be home for dinner every night. He stopped going out of town for business trips that would last a long time. He was acting like a father, and husband, again. Then Seth was born. It was amazing how much he looked like his father the day he was born.

"And we were a happy family. Then, a few months later, Harry started to stay late again. I didn't complain; I knew how important his job was. The Minister of Magic. I could only assume that the work had finally caught up with him. But one night he didn't make it back until after two in the morning. I was terrified. I had no idea what was keeping him out so long. When he finally made it home, he was drunk and looking slightly—no, very—disheveled."

I hated to interrupt her, but I had noticed a slight tear in her story. "Hermione," I used her first name again, "Why didn't you floo over to the Ministry? Or apparate?"

She bit her lip. "I was afraid of what I might find. Deep down I knew that here was no piled-up work. We were falling apart and there was nothing I could do to stop it." She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath before continuing.

"When Harry got home I knew he had been with a woman. There was no perfume, no lipstick stains, no marks. I just knew. I accepted his excuses with a smile that night, and all the nights after it—although my smile may have waned a bit. I suppose it was my fault for not speaking up, but I didn't know what to say to him anymore."

"It wasn't your fault," I said softly. She continued on with her story while I placed my hand over hers.

"We grew apart again. He still loved the children, but he no longer loved me. I knew, and he knew that I knew, so there was no point in pretending. In the three or four years after Seth was born we both…" She trailed off and a tear fell down her pale cheek.

I still don't know what made me feel so caring towards her that night, besides the urge to be near her for a while, but whatever it was it came in handy. I lifted my hand to wipe away a tear and she met my gaze again. This time we both held it out of passion, not strength. She was telling me her life story and I was sitting down with her to listen and understand. Neither were traits I normally expressed.

"And then Gracie…" she cried, her voice cracking as she broke her gaze and squeezed my hand. "My beautiful Gracie." Hermione's eyes were full of tears. I knew what was coming. It had been all over the news for weeks. Grace Patter; missing. No one had known where she was for sixteen days. Then a body of an eight year old girl was found off the coast of the Atlantic. It was identified as the missing girl.

"Harry had never told me that there were people looking for him. I never knew we were in trouble. He never told me…" She broke down as the tears over took her. I hadn't heard of Potter ever being wanted, so I presumed that he had pissed off the wrong people. I rubbed her hand and she looked up with renewed strength and now anger.

"I threatened to leave him. I was going to take Seth and leave. But I couldn't do it. He was so broken. Shattered. I couldn't leave him. Not after the last person he had loved—our daughter—was gone." She stopped speaking for a minute or two to gather herself.

She wiped her eyes before continuing. "So I stayed. Seth was four now, the same age Grace had been when he was conceived. It fit, I suppose, that there be a four year different between him and my next child."

"Another child?" I asked.

"Yes. Ten months after Grace died, I had another son."

"I've never heard of a fourth Potter child."

"You wouldn't have. You see, Harry kept Nathan's birth a secret. I don't believe Nathan has ever left our home. A three year old, trapped in his mother's house." She smiled a sad sort of smile and looked away again.

"His mothers? So Harry's not his…?"

"Please Draco!" she laughed bitterly. "Harry and I hadn't had sex since I knew Harry was cheating on her. Well, I guess we may have once or twice, but we were rarely together anymore. We didn't love each other," she tried to make me understand.

"Did you love Nathan's father?" I accused.

Hermione looked across at me in fury. "No. I don't even know who he is."

I shook my head in pity.

"Don't go feeling sorry for me," she scolded with all the know-it-all attitude that had plagued me in school. "I take full blame for my life. I never should have married Harry. None of this would have happened." She took a minute to fish her diamond ring out of her purse. "I should be going." She stood and started to walk away, but I called out to her.

"Would you like to dance?" I asked suddenly, not wanting to part just yet.

She gave me a quizzical look.

"Hermione, when did you last dance with someone?" I asked her.

She nearly smiled at me, but instead walked towards me in silent agreement. I escorted her to the dance floor and put a quarter into the juke box. I pressed a random key and then returned to Hermione. I took her small frame in my hands as the music began to play. The old juke was stocked with only slow songs, but I hoped I had picked a good one. I don't think a better song could have played.

_**Met you in a café**_

_**At a table meant for two**_

_**You were sitting by your lonesome**_

_**When I sat down with you**_

_**Tried hard not to show it**_

_**But I couldn't help but see**_

_**That you wore your broken heart**_

_**Out on your sleeve**_

_**And your loneliness could not disguise**_

_**The beauty and the charm**_

_**Thought if I ever get you**_

_**Shattered lady, in my arms**_

_**I'm gonna rock you baby to sleep**_

_**I'm gonna make you crazy over me**_

_**I'm gonna hold you like you've never been held before**_

_**And love you till you tell me you can't love anymore**_

_**I'm gonna shake your emotion right down to your soul**_

_**And then I'm gonna love you all over in and out of control**_

_**If this is how love is supposed to feel**_

_**Baby I know I've fallen head over heels**_

_**I'm gonna rock you baby**_

_**Over open conversation**_

_**And a bottle of red wine**_

_**You said this world is full of users**_

_**And I know that I've had mine**_

_**We danced a little slow dance**_

_**Until they closed that café down**_

_**You said 'What would be the chances**_

_**That tonight I finally found**_

_**Someone who makes me**_

_**Feel like my life is just begun?'**_

_**I said 'Girl believe in me**_

_**And I'll show you how it's done'**_

_**I'm gonna rock you baby to sleep**_

_**I'm gonna make you crazy over me**_

_**I'm gonna hold you like you've never been held before**_

_**And love you till you tell me you can't love anymore**_

_**I'm gonna shake your emotion right down to your soul**_

_**And then I'm gonna love you all over in and out of control**_

_**If this is how love is supposed to feel**_

_**Baby I know I've fallen head over heels**_

_**I'm gonna rock you baby**_

The music died down and then, without a word we left the café, pausing only long enough for me to pay the tab. I'm not sure how it happened, but suddenly we were in front of a nearby hotel. Hermione turned to face me. For the first time that evening she smiled _at_ me. Not like the fake one she offered when we first saw each other. It was a genuine smile.

"Did you ever love anyone, Draco?" she asked me.

I was startled. "What?"

"Love, Draco. Have you _ever_ loved?"

"Why?" I asked.

"I loved you," she said wistfully, as if she were only talking of the weather. "Back in school. I never told you, but I did. After you left me, I made my emotions focus on Harry. I thought I loved him—no…I did love him. But never like the way I felt for you, Draco. I thought I had gotten over you, but tonight I realized that I do still have feelings for you.

"I've never been able to tell anyone all of what I told you tonight. I need that, Draco. I need you."

I gave her a confused look, and she tried to clarify her meaning.

"I want to be with you. Tonight."

"I can't—"

"Not just tonight, though. Always, Draco. I'll leave Harry. I should have left long ago. I'll even leave my kids. I—I don't want to, but I will. I can't stay there, Draco. I can't."

She buried her head into my chest and began to cry. I held her to me as she sobbed.

"No," I whispered.

"What?" she sobbed, looking at me.

"Don't cry, Hermione," I said, wiping away her with soft kisses. "I never loved. Not before tonight, that is."

She looked at me with all the youth I remembered and I took her arm in mine as we passed by the hotel. That night was the first time I had ever known what love felt like. In one night, I fell in love with Hermione Granger. The Hermione who wanted me. But also Hermione Potter, the broken woman who needed me.

But, like I said, this is her story, not mine. I don't believe she fell in love with me that night, but somewhere between then and our wedding a year later she did or at least I like to think so. Either way, now we _are_ in love and Seth and Nathan have a real family. The end is only that Hermione finally found the happy ending that she deserved.

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**A/N: Well, you know the routine. And as an incentive to you ShiverBoo readers... If I can scrape ten or twelve reviews on this... Pageant will be up quicker than you can blink. Muah Hahahaha... I'm evil and lovin it!**

**Pageant is coming along really well by the way. This may just be the last chapter. Can you believe it?**

**Chocolate Spoons,**

**Amber**


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